


Bodies We Just Use for Fun

by dizzzylu



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Summer Vacation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 05:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzzylu/pseuds/dizzzylu
Summary: The trip is Nico's idea: to get lost for a week, someplace where no one will know their names. Where the drinking age is lax and the sun is plentiful. It's not exactly cold in New Jersey anymore, not this far into April, but large swathes of pristine sand sounds perfect. The anonymity is just a bonus.





	Bodies We Just Use for Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluenorth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluenorth/gifts).



> Okay, first thing: without spoiling anything (is it even possible to spoil pwp?), the voyeurism is FIVE THOUSAND percent consensual. 
> 
> With that out of the way, this fic is a suuuuuuuper late birthday present for my darling Laura, who introduced me to this ship and is always willing to talk about how soft they are for each other. This isn't the original post-playoff beach fic I first thought of, but I still like it. 
> 
> If I missed any essential tags, please let me know. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> VERY HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, DARLING!!!

The trip is Nico's idea: to get lost for a week, someplace where no one will know their names. Where the drinking age is lax and the sun is plentiful. It's not exactly cold in New Jersey anymore, not this far into April, but large swathes of pristine sand sounds perfect. The anonymity is just a bonus.

They leave the day after break-up day, the two of them with their carry-ons and nondescript snapbacks pulled low over their eyes. Nobody gives them a second look, and they let out twin sighs of relief when they get to their destination, drinks in their hands before they make it to their suite. Taylor is sure Nico didn't mean for it to be a sex vacation, but they have time and space now, and a generously appointed suite to get comfortable in. Between one breath and the next, Taylor is sprawled out on the sofa with Nico in his lap, both of them naked and loving it. 

And so it goes for the next forty-eight hours; dizzying amounts of sex and orgasms, interrupted for brief periods of sleep and sustenance, and a few athletic showers. Halfway through, they take pity on the house keeping and escape to the beach to allow for a change of linens, maybe a little exercise that doesn't involve their quads so much. And though Taylor enjoys the interlude, their foray into the non-adoring public, sitting out on the balcony and having Nico ride him while the sun sets is pretty amazing, too.

On the third day, Taylor wakes up with suspicious crusty patches on his chest and belly, and a cool spot next to him in bed. He might be more worried about it if there wasn't a strange weight pinning down the sheets at the end of the mattress. He stretches and rolls over, angling himself to get a look at their suite. Sure enough, Nico's there, splayed out in the armchair they dragged closer to the bed the day before (don't ask). He looks delicious all stretched out, miles and miles of smooth skin for Taylor to lick up one side and down the other. He stays where he is though, eyes slitted open enough to watch the lazy sweep of Nico's thumb, high up on the inside of his thigh.

They're in one of those places where they can leave the windows open and the bugs don't bother them, and Nico looks gorgeous in the gauzy light; soft and sleek with the beginnings of a tan, sleepy and relaxed. Thoughtful and impish. Taylor gets lost in the faint flicker of Nico's dimples, the flutter of his eyelashes. "I can feel you watching me," he says, his voice thick with a hint of gravel. 

Taylor hides his smile in the pillow, stretching out long enough to pull the sheets from his hips. "Maybe I like to watch," he says, feeling sluggish, brain still foggy. He curls an arm under the pillow and looks back down to see Nico watching him back. 

"What makes you think I like to _be_ watched?"

"I dunno," Taylor murmurs, taking is fill of Nico's body, the way his dick is starting to stir. Taylor gives him a pointed look. "Guess I'm just psychic."

Nico glances down at his lap and grins. "You gonna do something about it?"

"Nah." Taylor mimics a yawn, reaching for the sheet to tug it up to his hips. "I'm still tired. You're young, you do the work."

"What'll you give me if I do?"

"My undying love and devotion?" Taylor sort of regrets it the second he says it. It's true in all the ways that matter, but they haven't had any time to figure out what they mean to each other yet. Up until this trip, it's primarily been rushed sex and blowing off steam, quick one-offs and keeping secrets from the team. Taylor feels like he's been all in since their first fumbled kiss, but he can't know how Nico feels and he doesn't want to pressure him, either. It's a fine line to walk, this early in the morning.

Luckily, Nico is either too sleepy to comprehend what Taylor said or is too polite to call him on it. He chuckles and bumps his foot against Taylor's. "You're just lazy," he says, sly, but his hand is sliding up his thigh, a tease, to curl loose around the base of his dick. "I have no idea why I like you."

Taylor, alert now, arranges himself into a more comfortable position and says, "Me either."

Nico doesn't move at first, his head tilted down enough for his hair to fall forward, blunting the teasing quirk of his eyebrow, but then he slouches further in the chair, legs spread as wide as possible, and drags his fingertips up the length of his dick. A light, barely there touch that does funny things to Taylor's insides. Once they reach the tip, Nico makes a few sloppy loops with his middle finger, then glides back down, slower than before, like he's testing the give of the foreskin. He goes on like that for awhile, barely touching himself while his dick fills. It's equal parts mesmerizing and maddening, but Taylor _did_ ask for this. And it's not like he's not enjoying it.

Taylor's always liked Nico's hands; both in their abilities on the ice and off. They're big hands, sturdy, with blunt, nimble fingers. They're a hockey players' hands, but they're also elegant, sometimes even graceful, skimming along Taylor's torso, feeling out his ribs, his nipples. And they way they can take Taylor apart, with so little effort? Taylor never anticipated developing a fetish, but he could, he _has_ , for Nico's hands. For the soft curl of his fingers, the tickling drag of his knuckles. 

Nico's dick is hard and a little twitchy, almost like it's searching for Nico's touch. He thumbs at the shiny head, slips his finger into the foreskin and draws a few lazy circles, until precome pearls from the slit. It's there and gone in an instant, and Taylor wants to protest, until his eyes flick up to see Nico licking his thumb. 

"Fuck," he hisses, legs shifting, restless. Nico winks at him.

Fisting his cock, Nico slouches deeper in the chair, head tilted back. Taylor drinks in the elegant arch of Nico's neck, the scatter of bite marks among the beard burn. From the neck, his eyes follow the line of Nico's collarbone, and the spectacular hickey in the hollow of his throat. Staring too long at Nico's nipples make Taylor's fingers twitch, so he skips down, past the fading bruises on Nico's ribs to the join of his hip, the mess of pubic hair, and the splay of Nico's fingers over his thigh, high up near his cock. It's probably meant to be casual, keeping his hand close in case Nico wants to get a little creative with his jerking off. Any other time it could be, if there wasn't a bruise there, the same size and shape as Taylor's mouth, Nico's middle finger tapping a light pattern against it. 

Taylor bites back a smug grin.

A hum draws Taylor's attention back to Nico's dick. He's taken away most of his fingers, using just two and his thumb to play with the foreskin, pulling it back and forth to expose the shiny pink head. It's almost hypnotizing, the lazy rhythm of it. How Nico seems to pull back almost too far, then drag the skin over the head again, groaning each time his thumb brushes his slit. It's one of his favorite things, to have his slit played with; Taylor has learned to use it with devastating effect.

A gust of salty ocean air draws out a pleased sound, Nico's tongue darting out to lick his lips. His head falls to the side too, eyes slitted open enough for Taylor to see a glimmer of brown paired with a flicker of a grin. Taylor winks back, smiling wide. "Keep going," he prompts, voice gone rough.

"Planning on it." Nico's hips move then, a slow, sinuous roll that draws Taylor's attention back to the sleek lines of his body.

"So fucking gorgeous," Taylor rasps, hand moving to his own dick to give it a squeeze through the sheet.

Nico hums, smile turning shy, and fists his dick again, firm and sure. He's starting to sweat, his temples and throat shiny with it, his ribs too, and the cut of his hips. The hand on his thigh twitches and he moves it higher, slim fingers scratching through his pubic hair. There's a second there where it snags, where it takes an extra flick for Nico to move his finger, and his whole body shudders. He does it again, on purpose this time, and Taylor soaks up Nico's thick moan, the spurt of precome Nico smears between his fingers.

One more generous application of his fingernails and Nico's moving them up, up. Dragging over his abs, along one side of his ribs, seeking out a nipple. He licks his lips and grins, pausing there to pinch and tug, arching into it, shameless. Once the first nipple is red and peaked, he moves to the other with a weak thrash of his head, a throaty "yes," hissed between clenched teeth. The hand on his dick is still, but his hips pick up the slack, tiny trusts fucking into the circle of his fingers. 

Taylor takes a moment to close his eyes, to breathe deep and inch forward. The sheet has long slipped from his hips, and his hand is within reach of his dick. He could take himself in hand, there's nothing that says he can't, but he…doesn't. He wants his full attention on Nico, for however long this lasts.

Nico's watching him too, though. Eyes at half mast, flicking between Taylor's face and his dick. He sketches a nod, palm smoothing over his chest and back down his stomach, as if to say, _go on, I want you to_.

Taylor shakes his head, once. "I want to see."

Nico grins, showing all of his teeth, and lifts his hand to lick over his palm, wet and thorough. Taylor holds in a whimper.

Once his hand is slick enough, Nico starts jerking himself with intent, full strokes that start at the base and envelop the head. His hips get into it too, each thrust into his fist punctuated by a quick, noisy exhale. It draws Taylor's attention to the bunch and flex of his abs, the free hand spread wide over another mouth-shaped bruise, this one on his ribs. It only lasts a minute, fingertips turning white for a fraction of a second, and then it's between Nico's legs, tugging at his balls. 

Nico can't keep still now, some part of his body reaching for his touch. He starts panting, too. Gusty breaths forced out between slick, pink lips. Taylor watches the hand on his dick squeeze, the skin over his knuckles tightening, and hears his name muttered in between messy bursts of Swiss-German. Something about how rough it sounds makes Taylor's stomach flip and he squeezes his hand into a tight fist to keep from touching himself.

It ends in a rush; Nico curling in on himself, his mouth open on a wordless shout. His leg jerks wide, giving Taylor of glimpse of his hand, the fingertips Nico somehow slipped inside himself when Taylor wasn't paying attention. His grunts match the upstroke of the hand on his dick, fingers turning sticky with come. It's a lot to take in, but Taylor does his best. Even manages to catch the curl of Nico's toes as he teases his slit long past the point of orgasm. Something Taylor's done with his tongue more than once.

It seems too quiet, after. Despite the fact that Nico didn't make much noise to begin with, the silence presses down on them, making Nico's breathing seem too loud and rough. He's smiling, though. Almost glowing in the filtered mid-morning sun, sweat-damp hair sticking to his temples. The whole trip so far has been about fun and relaxation, but he looks downright obscene, now. Loose and languid in a way Taylor hasn't seen him since— well, ever, probably.

Taylor's eyes are still on the mess of Nico's stomach and he licks his lips, plotting. No sooner does he move his legs than Nico pops open one eye and points a weary finger at him.

"Stay there," he says, one corner of his mouth tilted up. "Just gimmie a minute."

Taylor freezes and clears his throat. "You uh, don't have to." He had half a thought of easing his way into Nico's lap and jerking off onto the bite marks on Nico's ribs. 

Nico's eyes rake down Taylor's body, giving extra attention to his groin. "I really fucking do."

"Okay," Taylor drawls, willing himself not to come right then and there. He lets his hand rest near the base of his dick, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub the skin there. More comforting than an attempt to get himself anywhere. It doesn't last very long anyway; a minute later, a weight makes its way up the mattress and Nico folds himself in between Taylor's legs. His palms are hot on Taylor's thighs, a little bit sticky yet. He pets Taylor for a few strokes, and then swallows Taylor down in one smooth slide.

It's too much all at once, too slick and hot and perfect. Taylor can't stop himself from thrusting into it until he meets resistance, Nico taking as much as he can with a muffled groan. He spares a second to flick his gaze up to meet Taylor's, long enough for Taylor to see the glimmer of amusement, and then his hands are a gentle weight, holding down Taylor's pelvis and thighs as he pulls up and sinks down again, slow and wet and sure.

Taylor's been hard pretty much since he woke up so it doesn't take long for him to feel that throb down deep in his gut, to grab for Nico's hand and grunt out a warning. Nico doesn't seem to care, applies himself to the task with twice as much enthusiasm and a judicious amount of suction. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," Taylor shouts, the orgasm sweeping through him in a rush. Nico rides it out, using his body to control as much of Taylor's thrashing as possible, while Taylor comes down his throat. He doesn't stop until Taylor is a sweaty, panting mess, his body feeling like one giant exposed nerve. Nico only softens his mouth and sucks Taylor clean, giving the head of Taylor's dick extra attention. Taylor twitches through it until he can't, until he wants to crawl out of his skin, and nudges Nico in the ribs to get him to stop.

Nico rears back, looking equal parts smug and breathless. His smiling that megawatt grin of his, dimples on full display, as he shoves a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. As an after thought, his tongue pokes out to swipe over a smear of come from the corner of his mouth. Nico's obvious confidence makes it hard for Taylor to breathe, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his lungs, trying to get back the feeling in his toes and fingers. He gets in two steady breaths before Nico is prowling up the length of Taylor's body, caging in Taylor with his arms and legs. Once Nico gets far enough, he drags their bellies together, chuckling at the sticky mess he's making of them both. 

He's smiling when he kisses Taylor, the softer, sweeter smile that Taylor hoards like gold. The kiss itself isn't as nice, taste like come and stale breath, but Taylor doesn't give a single fuck. He fists his hand in Nico's hair and arches into it, happy and sleepy and a little bit in love.


End file.
